The Life of Uchiha Sakura
by Girl-chama
Summary: Ch2: Because she had proven herself strong, she should have been strong enough to do it all.
1. Watermelon

Begun: August 26, 2004

Finished: August 26, 2004

Notes: The chapters that will fall into this fic are going to be isolated incidents, not flowing from one part to the next. Writing styles will jump around as well, and the chapters will be written pretty much as I feel like it. Enjoy =)

_Warnings:_ There are references for chapters up to 227, but no specific details. Also, fluff will occur. You've been warned.

Story Number One: Watermelon & Tissue

* * *

I hate watermelon. The big and round fruit that's pink on the inside and green on the outside. They look stupid, they're heavy, and no one likes to go through the trouble of opening one up just to get inside of it. Did I mention that they were big and round? And juicy? And sweet. And non-fattening, and good- Oh yes, watermelon. Er, I mean. Oh, I don't know what I mean. Maybe watermelon isn't all that bad. Not when it's cut up into little cubes with all of the seeds removed and you sprinkle just a little bit of salt on it to bring out the sweet flavor? When it's like that it's pretty **yummy**.

Oh man, I'm- I'm _drooling_ **again**. Where are those tissues? …Ah, that's better!

Where was I? Oh yeah…

I guess I just don't like it because right now I **feel** like a watermelon. Yeah, I may have pink **hair** and green **eyes** but the colors still match. I've also gotten heavy. Really heavy. But the main thing is that I'm round. **SO** round it's not even funny. I think I used to be dainty, but now I can't even see my feet.

That's right. You guessed it. I'm pregnant.

Who's kid is it? Well, if you **have** to ask, then why are you even here? It's Sasuke-kun's! And people said **I** was hopeless… Oh, I'm sorry… I guess that was a little rude. Maybe Ino was right when she started saying I was being emotional… Or **something**. I can't quite remember. She stopped talking after I started crying… It felt pretty good at the time, too. No one's going to yell too long at a pregnant woman.

So where was I again? Watermelon? Oh, that's right!

Well, maybe it would be best if I gave you a little bit of background information first. You know how we ninjas are. We like to have all the information before rushing into battle. Not that I've been a ninja for a while, but- I better not get started. The last time Sasuke-kun and I argued about that he spent the night sleeping on the couch and I spent the night crying in our bedroom. And right now I can't afford to waste tissues.

Anyway, about ten years ago, Sasuke-kun and I joined the same genin team as ninja. What? Well, of **course** Naruto was there. Yeah, he's the Hokage now and he's **great** and he's **wonderful** but who's telling this story? Oh… So you already know that part? Well, then… Let me see. Did you know about my brother-in-law? Uchiha Itachi? Yes, he's the one that massacred our clan over a decade ago…

Well, not many people know **this**, but… Ever since that day, Sasuke-kun vowed that he would kill his brother. He called him "that man" all of the time, and it took Naruto and I a long time to figure out who "that man" was. Uchiha Itachi, the prodigy of a century that killed his clan. Sasuke-kun still hasn't told me why Itachi did that. I am not sure if he even knows, or if he is just trying to protect me from something, but I'm willing to wait. I don't want him to hold anything back from me.

To be quite honest, I think a small- very small mind you, part of me is _grateful_ to Itachi for what he did. Don't get me wrong, or anything! I **love** Sasuke-kun with all of my heart, and if I could bring back his clan I would do it in a heartbeat, but… I've wondered more than once, if he'd grown up in a normal family with a normal childhood and normal goals if we'd be together now. Maybe if things had been different he would have married someone like Hyuga Hinata, the heiress of the most powerful clan in Konoha. He might have even married Ino-pig. Though she's not as beautiful as I am (even as a watermelon!) she's still pretty… I _guess_… And I'll be the first person to say that she's an amazing kunoichi. Who wouldn't want someone like that?

But the way things are, it was **me** and not either of **them**… **I** was the one that learned his pain. **I** was the one that vowed to stay by his side, no matter what. **I** was the one that fell in love with him. And he fell in love with me too. Of course, not as quickly or as readily as I fell in love with him, but that's a story for another day.

Anyway, as much as I love my Sasuke-kun, it was not my love that reached him. For a time I was very worried that nothing would reach him, but there was something- _someone_ that got to him.

It was Naruto. The number one loudest, hyperactive, show off ninja in Konoha was the one to reach my Sasuke-kun. Okay so maybe he's toned down a little bit- okay a **lot** since that time in the Water Country so long ago. But more serious missions and nearly dying at the hands of your best friend will do that to you. But Naruto didn't die. He didn't even come close, and he brought my Sasuke-kun back to me, and for that I will be forever grateful to him.

Sasuke-kun will be too, I think. Even if he doesn't say anything. Even if he calls Naruto dobe from time to time and never smiles at him and hardly ever smiles at his jokes. I think he's grateful that Naruto pulled him back from going down a horribly wrong path. And though he'll never say anything, I can read him. After eight years of stalking and glomping and crying and protecting him I **should** be able to read him!

That's why I think Sasuke-kun's gratitude turned into trust, and trust turned into faith, and from faith, he and Naruto went after Itachi. Together. As two avengers that just happened to be best friends. I would like to say that I was right there with them. That I was the one who thought of a brilliant plan that was carried out by Naruto's strength and Sasuke's skill. That I was the one that stood on the sidelines, willing to be a shield for either one of them if it turned out that they weren't quite _strong_ enough, or quite _skilled_ enough.

But it didn't happen that way. I wasn't there. I wasn't even close. I'm not sure where the battle was, but it was far enough away that we didn't even hear rumors of it. Not from our allies, not from our enemies. None of the other hidden villages so much as peeped. I didn't know if either of them had lived or died until they came back, bruised and bloodied and carrying a few more scars, but back, and both of them alive.

I **can** honestly say that I was the most relieved person in the world when they finally got back. I couldn't even really be mad at them, because Naruto was grinning that stupid foxy grin of his and Sasuke was no longer wearing a persistent frown.

A few months after that, when Sasuke-kun was fully recovered and the excitement had finally settled down, he asked me.

You _know_ what he asked me.

It was romantic, though I'm not delusional _enough_ to think that Sasuke-kun meant it to be. The weather was actually perfect for a non-romantic proposal. It was gray and so, so cold just like winter always is. I had always imagined a spring proposal under falling cherry blossoms, or maybe in the summertime after we had just had a sweet picnic by ourselves. But no, Sasuke-kun was recovered and ready to start with goal number **two**. (Oh, goal number two was the restoration of his clan. Sorry, it's so engrained in _my_ head that I forget that some people don't know…)

So we were standing there in that familiar place on the bridge, neutral ground for the both of us. Rather, neutral for him. To me it was special. Some of my favorite memories had occurred on that bridge, but Sasuke-kun probably wasn't worried about that. He didn't hesitate long either. Because the sky opened up and it started snowing, just a little bit, but enough to be beautiful in my memory forever. Then, and I remember this part very specifically, he looked down at me (because Sasuke-kun has had a growth spurt or two since our days as genin) and in utter seriousness asked me to marry him. And he was so beautiful because snowflakes were in his bangs and his breath was turning into steam.

It was the steam that made me say yes without hesitation. No matter how calm and collected Sasuke-kun likes to act, he was breathing fast. I was positive that he was nervous, and if he was nervous about my answer… Well, you understand…

So I said yes. I mean, of course I said yes. I had only loved him since I was ten years old, and ten years is a long, long time to wait. Even for someone that you love with all of your heart.

We got married in the spring, under the cherry blossoms. Sasuke-kun seemed to be annoyed that they were blowing all over the place. There was one time when he swatted at a few that were sticking to his face and I reached up and brushed them away as if it were the easiest thing in the world and he- You'll **never** guess this. He _blushed_! He blushed at **me**! And I grinned, because I couldn't help it. I'd never seen him blush, and when I grinned, he even smiled- it was a tiny smile, but it was the most precious thing I have ever seen. Sasuke smiled at me on our wedding day, and that made it one of the most romantic days in the world…

Our first anniversary was a few weeks ago, but we didn't do anything special. No matter what anyone says, though, it was not because of Sasuke-kun. Now that no one else is around, I can admit that it was my entire fault.

Sasuke-kun actually had reservations at a nice restaurant, but I'd been having one of my bad days and by that evening I couldn't stand to look at myself in the mirror. I certainly didn't want anyone else seeing me looking like a wretched hag with a basketball under my dress! So we stayed in and watched movies and ate takeout. Sasuke-kun was probably just as happy to not go out, knowing him, and I was happy just to wear a T-shirt and some of his old shorts since mine don't fit too well anymore. Besides, I got to snuggle on the couch with the man I love. What could be better than **that**?!

Six months after we got married I got pregnant. And now seven months later, I am definitely showing. I would also like to take a moment to say to all of those out there that always thought I was useless… Well, the proof is in my forty-inch waist. I am **not** useless. In fact, I don't think either Sasuke or I were counting on me being so fertile! What do you mean that sounds gross? It's the facts of life, kid. Besides, I'm going to have to **push** this thing out in a few months, so I am going to say whatever I want between now and then.

Maybe I should be a little more careful with my words, though. I don't think Sasuke-kun has an infinite supply of patience. It hasn't failed yet. Not really, but I try not to push my limits all of the time. Most of the time, but not all of the time.

So weren't we talking about watermelon originally? Well, okay here's the story, I guess…

Every year since I can remember, Konoha has put on a cherry blossom festival. I don't know of any other countries that do, but it's always a pretty big thing here. It's a symbol of the spring and new growth, and I guess for some people it's a symbol that they made it through another year. People in ninja villages like that. Short life span and all…

It's a pretty important deal for the village. There are booths set up and down all of the main streets for games and stuff. Little children run around and scream, and right now it's a comforting thought to think in a few years my child will be one of those children. Of course, he or she will be very well mannered. With parents like Uchiha Sasuke and Sakura, then there's no getting around it!

There are all sorts of festivities for a few nights where people where their yukata. And because the nights are still a little cool, lovers walk arm in arm. Needless to say, I was looking forward to it. Sasuke-kun and I went together one night right before we got married, and it was one of the most memorable nights of my life.

The problem is… Many years ago, when the Uchiha were still prominent, I remember at the Cherry Blossom festival that all of the ladies and girls would carry beautifully lacquered fans. The folding paper ridges would be beautifully decorated with nature scenes, or stylized ladies, or some other thing. Even now, after all of those years, I remember the makers of those fans. With a name like Uchiha floating around, how could you forget?

This year, with many years of friendship behind us and the safety of marriage ahead of us, I wanted to ask him about the fans. I remember particularly well one fan that I had when I was much younger, a ceremonial thing, and a little bit expensive, but I liked it very much because of its design. Also, all of the girls in my kunoichi classes had a fan or two, and if I could have a fan as well then it served as a connection between them and me.

When I asked him about the fans he tried to close himself off, as he usually does, from the past. I didn't let him though. Wisely, or foolishly, and to be quite honest I am not yet sure which applies, I pressed him about it. I did not have to remind him of the W-word, my connection to him. He knew without my saying so that I was pressing that leverage. Besides, not many people, least of whom Uchiha Sasuke, will yell at a pregnant woman.

Finally, after a few tears, not all of which were faked, he caved and told me about the fans while he held me to stop my sobbing. The older members of the clan, the ones that were no longer ninja, would spend weeks and months making them ahead of time for the festival. Since there were festivals all year long, they would usually make them year round. He saw them made before, but never actually made them himself. The story goes that they were bought by the lover of a maiden and given to her as a symbol of love and care. Then, to reciprocate that love and care, the maiden would use the fan to cool herself and her beloved, especially in the hotter months of the year.

When Sasuke-kun told me that story, I remembered that the Uchiha did not discriminate against patrons that might buy the fan for their children. But it was a nice story all the same.

Everything seemed fine after I asked him. Only I had a wonderful idea after that and I wanted to share it with him!

Why wouldn't it be possible for us to continue making the fans? Or me, at least. Ninja work is in Sasuke's blood, even more than mine, and he still goes on missions fairly regularly. But with the baby coming soon, he's going to be taking more and more time off, and I have taken off completely. With all of my free time, I get bored sometimes so if I could at least teach myself to make the fans for the festivals in the coming years, then I would love to! I would love for my daughter- and Sasuke-kun and I are going to keep going until I **get** a daughter- to be the first maiden in a decade to receive one of the famous fans.

Needless to say, Sasuke-kun did not approve. He told me firmly that it was not going to happen. I told him just as firmly that he was being stupid and I was going to do it. Then he told me to stop trying to uncover the past. I told him that not all of the past is bad. Things went downhill from there. I think I called him a few (okay several) nasty names, but honestly I can't remember because I was crying so loudly that even **I** was getting embarrassed.

I've made it a point since I became a chuunin five years ago not to cry as much, but I was so hormonal and Sasuke-kun was being so inconsiderate that I couldn't help it. He slept on the couch that night, too. But I think that was more his choice than a punishment. Besides, I'm not sure that I wouldn't fall off of the couch as big as I am now, and I would rather kiss Naruto's dirty toes than hurt this baby in a fall.

That argument was actually a few hours ago, and now I am lying in bed unable to sleep because my heart hurts, my back is aching and the baby is playing Dance Dance Revolution in my uterus. And the more I lie here, the more I keep thinking about Sasuke-kun… and those nachos in the fridge… But mostly about Sasuke-kun. I mean, sometimes I wish he **would** yell. Because when he stares at me with those eyes that say, "You're annoying," then I remember when we were twelve years old and he told me that and then I start getting all **emotional** again, and it's really embarrassing. Even when no one is there to see my eyes and nose start running.

Ugh, where are my tissues?

Why are my tissues on the other side of the room?! Did darling **Sasuke-kun** put them there?! Why is he so cruel?! So now I have to _roll_ out of bed… Where is Sasuke-kun to help me stand up?! That man!

After waddling to my box of tissues and blowing my nose until I can't blow anything else out, I'm ready to go back to bed but Sasuke-kun's standing there in the doorway.

As always he looks incredibly handsome, even if he looks kind of tired and disgruntled, but when does he ever _not_ look incredibly handsome? Or disgruntled for that matter? But he's wearing a pair of cotton pajama pants- the ones that I wanted to **wear** tonight! And he's got his blanket thrown over his shoulder like he's about to come and get in this bed with me. Well, he's got another thing coming to him if he thinks that he's going to be forgiven that easily… Especially after…

"Why did you move my tissues?" I ask and then sniffle for emphasis. My arms come to rest over my bulging stomach as I priss (as much as a woman of my size can) back to bed and then flop onto it, back first of course.

I don't bother looking at him. I'm mad, and I want him to **know **it.

"Sakura," he says, and for once I can't tell if he is trying to be nice or he's confused. When I look at him from the corner of my eyes, he is frowning. Hmm, he's confused. Go figure. "I moved your tissues." I'm ready to point out that I **know** that, when he adds, "Because you wanted to be able to find them when you got ready for bed."

Oh.

"Well still," I say trying, and failing, to hold onto that argument. I guess that means we have to go for the big nasty matter at hand. "Why are you so mad at me?" I ask quickly, before he can even begin to presume that I am going to let him sleep in the same bed as me tonight. Emotions of this depth will have him sleeping on the couch for at least three more nights unless he apologizes first.

"I'm sorry," he says, and I do look at him this time. I'm a little surprised that he caved so quickly. It's not like him at all. Then without warning he comes to the bad and climbs under the thin covers with me. With spring on the way, the two of us are enough to warm this bed, especially since I am generating enough body heat for two people.

But body heat or not, that apology was not **near** what it should have been, and he's not getting off that easy. "Hey!" I try to protest as he sidles up next to me. But then he's kissing me and I'm shutting up. Pregnant women don't kissed like this very often… It's kissing like this that leads to what gets women pregnant in the first place. Then he slides back into his customary spot in the bed and kisses my cheek, telling me without words what he means.

Properly pacified, I say, "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have yelled at you so much… No one deserves to be called such awful things…" Even though part of me doesn't remember what I said, I know it was pretty bad… Besides, I'm the talker of the two of us, and it just wouldn't be right if I didn't spill everything that was on my mind. But before I've even gotten all of the words out I'm crying again. Crap!

Women are twice as emotional as normal when they are flooded with estrogen and their stomachs are inflated to the size of beach balls. Well, maybe not that big, but considering my size beforehand it might as well be.

Then Sasuke-kun, my dear, sweet, Sasuke-kun has taken one of the tissues from my precious cardboard box and is dabbing and my eyes, and even at my nose… And that gentleness is enough to hush my whimpering and stifle my tears. Then he disposes of the tissue and curls in against my side. One of his strong, callused hands lifts my shirt just enough to expose my balloon of a stomach and he spreads his fingers over it quickly.

We lay there in the silence, him staring at me and me staring at the ceiling. Then both of our gazes go to my belly simultaneously and I begin to smile. The baby's kicking again. Not quite DDR, but enough that Sasuke can feel it through my skin. I turn and look at his black eyes, discernibly wide even in the darkness. He looks as innocent as he should have **been** all of those years.

"That's your baby," I tell him softly, hoping not to break the mood, but unable to keep from speaking.

He looks at me slowly, and gives me one of his soft, beautiful smiles. The kind of smile that, five years ago, would have made me melt into a puddle on the floor. The reaction is not that much different now.

"That's _our_ baby," he corrects me, smiling for just a bit longer before he presses a bit more firmly against my stomach. The baby's kicking back, and I want to imagine it's in response to that touch; that tenderness reserved for me alone. Except in about two months Sasuke-kun will share it with the baby too. He had better, that is, if he knows what's good for him.

In two months, two is going to become three, and Sasuke is going to be well on his way to fulfilling his dream…

Me?

I've already got mine…

Ugh! Where are my **TISSUES!!**

**

* * *

**

The End =)


	2. Hiroyuki

Begun: January 23, 2007

Ended: January 26, 2007

* * *

"I really do love my job."

You'd have to. Because when the hospital calls, you answer.

Food is dropped, fires extinguished, heads left rolling, and you're on your way.

Uchiha Sakura's role as Chief of Staff should have meant less healing and more time spent behind a desk. She was supposed to be creating schedules, and thinking of new and better ways to save her colleagues. Only, when you live in a village where more living ninjas are better than more partially healed ninjas, and much better than dead ninjas, you end up having to step in from time to time. Or shift to shift. Now she creates schedules, thinks of newer, better ways of healing, and does a share of the work herself.

When she should be resting her eyes and catching her breath, she mothers.

She knows it should be the other way around, and that mothering should come first and healing should come second, but you've read the first paragraph and you know the harsher reality of it. Besides, her four year old son is not a ninja. Not yet, anyway.

It's that thought that has her scrunching her face as she pours over a scroll of hastily written kanji, characters so looped and scrawled over one another that they would demand repeated perusal. Her son is not yet a ninja, though if his father has anything to say about it, he will be.

Right now, the boy is more worried about the cold senbe sitting out of reach than whether shuriken have four, five, or six points. Tenten argues that four are best. They are more likely to be better quality, and less likely to cut one's own hand. Sakura argues that children who have just had dinner should not be trying to talk their mother into giving them salty rice crackers.

"Mommy, I want that cracker," his words say. His tone says that he is only alerting her of this so that she may extend her hand and give it to him. That she should debate over whether or not he _should_ eat it has never crossed his mind.

"No, Hiro," she says gently, not looking at him but once more looking over the scroll. One hand holds the unadulterated material away from the hunting point of her diving brush.

She makes it halfway through one more character before Hiroyuki has placed both hands on her bent knee and is whining, "But Mommy"

Hastily finishing the character, she tilts her face to him, locking pale green against black and says calmly and firmly, "No Hiro-chan. I want you to go pick out a book for us to read together tonight, okay?" He's distracted by this, and the would-be heartbreak turned whining is lanced before it can swell. Annoyance turns to adoration as the not-quite toddler turns from her and breaks into a waddle-run, clapping his hands as he does so.

Sakura watches him only for a moment before catching her tongue between her teeth as she continues scribbling. There are four more lines to go within this particular phase of the seal. Four lines closer to life, and four lines away from death.

She can hear Hiro only one room over from the common room. He has forgotten the order to wash his face, but Sakura lets it go. She'll remind him, but for now she'll listen to him scramble through the clutter of his room, wondering how and when the

opportunity will rise for a cleaning.

Two more lines are finished and Sakura has lowered the brush, but not abandoned it. Notes are sprawled over the table in her illegible hand, demanding attention before more characters can be created on the open scroll. Two lines closer to life, and two lines further from death, but damn if those lines weren't so, so far away.

She blows a breath over the quickly drying ink. Once, and then twice. Then with practiced motions the scroll is once more a neatly bundled wrap, tied with a deceptively innocent knot. High-level techniques are kept from prying eyes with a myriad of defenses. This is only one.

She slides out of the chair, stacking the notes as she does so. Her feet, purpose, and attention turn toward her son's room and with a few strides she is standing before his door, watching as he flips through a thick-paged book, scanning pictures while his toe scuffs the ground unconsciously.

"Is that the one you want?" she asks without pausing to admire him. It's been a long day, with tomorrow promising to be another. Before Hiroyuki can explain why he has been standing silently, staring at a book he cannot entirely comprehend, there is a loud tinny wail from the kitchen that grabs Sakura's attention faster than it should. Faster than her son has today.

Urgency sometimes rules importance, and Sakura makes a physically harmless finger motion to her son before backtracking. Wait for me, it says silently and Hiro watches her until she turns the corner, then his eyes are back on his book. He is quiet and absent-minded. He's also four years old and constantly absorbing the stimuli around him.

In the kitchen, Sakura's easy, family tone has disappeared as she grabs the long-range radio from next to the sink. "Go ahead," are the clipped words that fall from her mouth, reading glasses being discarded with her free hand. The black block in her hand crackles before she hears the words she dreads.

Only two ninjas tonight. Right now, rather. Both hurt badly enough that she's being called in to clean up. Her affirmation is shorter than her greeting and she sets the radio on the counter even as she moves toward Hiroyuki's room. Sasuke is gone, and has had back-to-back missions lately. It's actually not his fault, and Sakura knows it, but there are no emergency babysitter services in Hidden Leaf, and as Ino and Naruto are both beyond the reach of her current time limit, her list of options is woefully short.

Hiroyuki is still regarding little golden book as she approaches and it is without ceremony that she grabs a small green and yellow duffel from the corner of his room before she grabs the boy himself.

"Want to go flying, Hiro-chan?" she asks as she dances him toward the doorway. Are these the only battles she can fight now? The ones where she convinces herself that she's a good mother and the family she always wanted is as perfect as she always imagined? That it's okay to be whisking her son with her to the hospital when he instead needs to be sleeping like a normal four year old?

Such battles are won when she reminds herself that, even within the ninja ranks, her family is hardly normal.

Hiroyuki laughs and nearly dances with her, his torso gyrating within her arms. She cannot help but laugh with his near hysteric giggles as they exit the compound. He's laughing so much that he's shaking, but she'd kill herself before she'd drop him. He does not find it strange so much as wonderful when she leaps to the rooftop of the house soundlessly.

They lift and descend, and it feels like they are floating. Like the are flying. Sakura knows all of the right places to land on each different building because there are traps installed even here for the unwary. Six years of marriage and over a decade of life as a ninja has convinced her of their merit.

The municipal hospital is before her to her fear and delight. She presses a kiss to her son's lips before they are separated and a familiar aid takes the boy to make him more comfortable. They could be out of here shortly, but more than likely they will be a few hours.

Adrenaline set in before she entered the kitchen, at the first crying of the radio. It has yet to give her reprieve, and her lungs are filling and relaxing almost as if she has been running. She's calm, though, and as she enters, and the other medics who aren't feeding chakra into a dying woman step away. Those working are too immersed in their positions to look at her. They also know that a break in their precarious positions could be as harmful to them as the woman lying on the table.

"Sensei!" one medic cries as Sakura steps up to the younger man with green chakra covering his fingers. Sakura does not take her eyes off of the woman before her. The ninja seems unharmed accept for the pained expression on her face. She's conscious, if only to a small degree, and knows that there is something wrong with her body. "Sensei it's the chakra flow. Somehow it's been- been- reversed!"

Sakura does not allow her own curiosity to show because she knows that emotions bear like wildfire and are able to flare into something much greater than their original form. Instead she listens as her subordinate informs her as to necessary details of the mission, how foreign ninja were able to overcome and incapacitate the one lying before her.

And almost immediately after is when she steps in and takes over for the man next to her. She only barely hears him slumping to the floor, and does not notice the other medics beginning to carry him out of the room. Another colleague across from her is maintaining the body's functions as the ninja's own chakra is no longer feeding necessary energy to the vital places. It is Sakura's job to restore the chakra's proper flow.

This procedure feels familiar. Well, sort of. This is a two-fold process, and she's really only done the first half before. She is not familiar enough with Rock Country techniques to effectively counter them. She is, however, familiar enough with the human body to know how to treat it, and the best way to set the course of chakra flow is to start it. From scratch.

"We'll need one other fully capable," and that means fully energized, "medic for this procedure. We're going to put her into arrest, and then we'll start her over," Sakura says, and her voice is much stronger than her conviction that she can pull this off. She's shut down the chakra flows of people before. She's also created fully working chakra flows. In fish. And people are quite different from fish. She's also been a medic for over half of her life.

No one around her hesitates at her command. Whether they have faith in her or in the chain of command she does not consider. They do not cry out that this process could kill the one on the table, and leave her for dead. By all rights this ninja should have been dead and cold hours past. One or two more won't add repercussive harm. Besides, Sakura is not going to leave her that way any longer than she can help it.

For the next three hours two medics ensure that the lungs breathe, the heart pumps blood, and that the blood circulates to the rest of the organs, all of which function at a slower rate than normal, but function nonetheless. Sakura slowly shuts down Minori's, for that's the ninja's name, natural chakra pathways, causing the unnatural flow to cease before any lasting damage can be created. She then carefully restores them and is once more amazed at the way in which one's body can heal itself with marvelous resilience.

An hour after the procedure, Minori's remains are being cremated courtesy of Anbu and the hunter-nin facilities. Sakura is amazed at the capabilities of the human body, and even more amazed at much more she still does not know. One thing she knows, which still does not quite help the guilt and disappointment, is that even if you do everything right- things can still turn out horribly wrong.

Sakura has left the second, stable ninja to the other medics, and is writing the report to be turned into the Hokage's center. It could wait because her body is exhausted and her brain is more so than her body, but she knows that the details are freshest in her mind now.

She has lost a life tonight and that makes her hurt, because she has not yet become cynical to her job nor does she take for granted the effects that she has on other people's lives. Sakura does not delude herself about the nature of her job. It's demanding. In every possible way, but its demand is reciprocal. She needs the job. Without it she is only a great ninja, surrounded by greater ninja, making her average at best. As the medic who can save lives, and nearly bring people back from the dead there is a reassurance for- for many things she doesn't want to name. Some touch on her relationships with her friends, and some with her husband, and with the respect she has for herself.

Sakura holds onto that need until she reaches the lounge, where Hiroyuki has reclined in a horizontal, S-shaped chair. It looks horribly uncomfortable, but Sakura knows that children are even more adaptable and resilient than the most honed ninjas' bodies. The special feeling of being a doctor and amazingly competent ninja fades away. Fast on its heels is the even more special feeling of knowing how much faith that little one has vested in her.

It's lovely.

It's terrifying.

Though most of the fear was born the night he was born. It left her after she realized that Hiroyuki could be fed and clothed easily enough. Though it stills nips at her heart every now and then. Nights like tonight when Sakura knows that her son deserves better than he's received.

She scoops him up into arms where he stirs minimally before conforming to her bosom and resting there. His duffel is with him, the clothes he was wearing back at the compound are tucked neatly within it while his pajamas keep him warm and comfortable. Sakura is ready to drop into the nearest bed, but Hiroyuki prefers his own- deserves his own, so they- she is going to walk the journey back to the Uchiha compound where her son will have sweet dreams and where she will collapse into her empty bed- if she does not collapse on the way instead.

They leave the lobby, and then the surgery ward, flanked by gentle smiles and the silence that should be filled with congratulations. What do you say to reassure the doctor who has taught you everything you know? She hugs her son a bit tighter as they reach the main entrance, only to feel her dampened spirits renew at the sight of a beautiful head of coal hair.

Matching eyes are watching her solemnly as she approaches. As she draws closer, arms are lifted to her and she gratefully deposits their son into her husband's arms, only briefly wondering if he meant to hug her instead. He does not correct her motions and they walk side by side through the village in silence.

When they return home, Sakura drops the duffel just in the door while Sasuke returns their boy to his bed. The pink-haired woman takes a moment to clear off her notes from the kitchen table before making to prepare cold tea, something to refresh her husband. It is clear he has not yet had time to wash.

"Leave it," Sasuke commands and guides her to their room. They lie down, once free of their clothing, and he tucks her back to his chest, one hand resting on her thigh because he knows that she likes this position. He's been gone for thirteen days, but Sakura feels that she could cry with relief when his gestures go no further. She enjoys intimacy almost as much at the next person- but tonight- not tonight.

"We completed the mission successfully," Sasuke mumbles against the back of her head, and she can sense that he is near to sleep.

"Was there any doubt?" Sakura asks, her voice is low, but clear, and though she is tired, her mind is now alert with failure. Those four words, their tone, is enough to betray her fatigue and worry to her husband. Though her words are for him, her mind is elsewhere. The fingers splayed and relaxed over her leg suddenly dip into her skin. They are gentle, but firm.

"You did all you could. You couldn't do anymore."

"Minori's comrades won't want to hear that," she retorts and Sasuke is silent. The arm on her leg is withdrawn and she widens her eyes, hoping that the cool air will dry a sudden onset of tears. She has learned over the years many techniques for maintaining her composure.

When she feels his other arm wrapping beneath her waist and her body rolling involuntarily to face him, she is grateful for the arm at her back that keeps her from becoming entirely boneless. It does not seem to matter when Sasuke pulls her against his chest and allows her bury her face against his shoulder.

Her four year old son has not seen his father in two weeks. His mother has been pulled in two different directions by forces which command both her love and loyalty, and Minori-who-was-a-ninja is now nothing but ash and a name carved into a far-off rock. More scroll work waits for her tomorrow, more dying and ailing ninja, and more attention which her son needs and deserves which she can't quite seem to effectively fulfill. And the weariness returns full force so that when she sags into the bed Sasuke's arm silently tightens around her. He has gotten much better at expressing his feelings over the years, even if his verbal communication still is not on par with hers- or anyone's for that matter.

"I'm taking Hiroyuki to the old wing tomorrow for target practice. We're going to make a day of it," Sasuke mumbles, though there is something about his tone which is more awake than Sakura would have guessed.

Her breathing is able to deepen at those words, though no amount of dry air could now stop her tears from falling. She does not say thank you, though she feels gratitude in her heart. She and her husband have both realized that its best not to give thanks for what they know they should do anyway.

"That sounds good," she says, instead, and pays a chaste kiss to his clavicle. His hold relaxes slightly and she pulls away, giving him room to breathe and relax into the bed. She maintains a hold on the front of his nightshirt, though, yawning as some of the tension seeps out of her shoulders. The scrolls and schedules and sick patients don't seem as harrowing as they did moments ago.

She really does love her job.

* * *

wowie wowie woo.


End file.
